Realism-style tattoo on the upper arm showing a portrait of a man, a red classic car, a vintage microphone, flames and a Sun Records style badge.

Realism sleeve with red classic car and microphone

Realism · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A detailed tattoo on the upper arm shows a black and grey portrait of a man with a quiff, beside a glossy red classic car with chrome trim. Behind them sit a vintage microphone, a diner-style sign, a lightning bolt, flames and music notes, with a round Sun-style badge and a petrol pump at the bottom. The shading is smooth and realistic, with the red car as the main colour against mostly grey tones.

Realism Upper arm Portrait Man Microphone Flame Music note Lightning bolt Badge

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Frank Dillard had promised his daughter the car would be at the church gate by eleven, and at ten past he was still under its bonnet in a lay-by outside Coldharbour Cross, cursing a fuel line that had split like a wishbone. The red convertible had been his for nineteen years. He had driven it to his proposal, to the christenings, to the funeral of his wife's mother, and he was not about to let a cracked hose spoil the one ride that mattered.

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Mick Varley, who had sung at every wedding in the valley for thirty years, pulled in behind him in the van with a jerrycan and a roll of tape. He did not ask about the hose. He asked whether Frank still had the old chrome mic stand in the boot, because the bride's uncle had been promised a song and the hall's own microphone had died at the rehearsal.

They bound the split with tape and a length of pipe scavenged from the forecourt, Frank swearing, Mick humming something slow that was not yet a song. When the engine caught, the exhaust coughed up a blue cloud over the hedgerow and both men laughed like lads who had got away with something.

At the church gate the bride's mother saw the car before she saw her daughter, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Frank stood by the driver's door in his good suit, a black thumbprint of grease still under one nail, and he wiped it on the chrome of the fin, leaving a small dark mark that nobody but him would ever notice.